


You Are Here

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Biphobia, F/M, Family Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. When lost, scared, and heartbroken Jack McLoughlin finds himself stranded in an unfamiliar country, he learns that the kindness of strangers is not a forgotten art, and that a family of friends may be stronger than a family of blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Here

**Author's Note:**

> This story ended up being way longer than I anticipated? 
> 
> Also it's something I had swirling around in my mind for a while. I'm glad I finally got to write it out. It took me so long, and even longer to edit, and even then the ending feels a little shaky, but I feel like it ended the way I wanted it to, so I'm gonna leave it.
> 
> Regardless, I really like this plot. I like the dynamic of a family of friends. It's so warm and fuzzy. It makes me smile. 
> 
> As well, I hereby crown myself Empress of AUs. Challenge me if you will.

He is so far from home.

Jack doesn't really know where he is. The busy streets and the rain mingle together in a downpour of both anxiousness and chills. He feels lost as he wanders down the streets, gripping at his backpack straps a little tighter, water seeping out into his already soaking fingers. 

He pulls the hood up over his head a little higher, though he doesn't know why. It's not like it's actually protecting him from the rain. The material is already drenched through and through and at this rate, he's likely going to catch some sort of illness. Jack knows that technically it's impossible to catch a cold from the rain, but at this point, anything is possible.

It's supposed to be impossible for his family to stop loving him. But here he is. Unloved, unwanted, and fucking _wet_.

The longer he wanders, the more misery bears down on Jack's shoulders. What is he supposed to do? Here he is in an unfamiliar city, where he has no idea where to go or who to go to or what to do with himself. Jack has never been particularly good about planning anything, but of all the stupid decisions he's made over the years, leaving Ireland is probably the worst one.

But he'd been so scared. So afraid. All of his siblings were gone, unable to protect him. Do they even know he's gone? Do they know what their parents have done? Ridden themselves of their last son? 

Jack tries not to dwell, but his despair begins to consume him. All of his nerves and dread begin to fill him all at once, and hot tears well up in his eyes. He doesn't bother wiping them away, keeping his head bowed low, not making eye contact with anyone. Then again, it's not as if anyone in this stupid place will take notice of him anyway. 

He is nothing at home, and he is nothing here. Will he ever be something to anyone?

Jack collides with something solid, but smaller than he. Still, he stumbles back and catches himself before he falls. Instantly, a flurry of apologizes roll off his tongue before he even looks up at the person he's run into. But then he meets their eyes.

It's a girl—no, woman. Her head pokes out from underneath her soft red umbrella, revealing long brown hair, curling at the tips, a curious look on her face. He wipes at his eyes, hoping that she doesn't notice the tears—but then he stops, wondering why he thinks she'll even notice. It's raining, for one thing, and it's not like she'll particularly care about him. He just ran into her, for Christ's sake. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he continues, licking at his lips. He swallows. “I wasn't...wasn't lookin' where I was going.”

She says nothing, only continues to stare, and Jack feels uncomfortable, her gaze sharp but calculating at the same time. He raises his eyes to meet hers, and notices that, even in the shoddy light of the lamp post in the dark, they're a beautiful shade of brown, much darker than her hair. 

For a moment, everything stops. Jack can't explain the way that she gazes at him, as if she's reading something that he can't understand. But as quick as it comes, the moment is gone. She straightens.

“No, no, I'm sorry,” she says, a soft Italian accent in her voice. “I should have paid more attention. Not your fault, forgive me.”

She smiles at him, looking him up and down. She frowns. “You look so wet. My goodness, why are you not at home in this weather, and with no umbrella?”

Jack sucks in a sharp breath. Her scrutinizing eyes fix themselves on him once more, and he feels paralyzed. She's a total stranger. He's under no obligation to answer her. In all honesty, he could just walk away from her, leaving her to her own thoughts, allowing her to create her own ideas about what he's here for. 

But he feels he should. But he doesn't want to tell her the truth. Jack begins, “I...um...”

“Do you have someplace to go?” she presses, and Jack can't find an answer fast enough. He tries to say yes, but he's afraid she'll ask where, and he has no idea what this place is like. He has no idea where to even _fake_ that he lives in.

When he gives no response, she holds her head high. “Then you come with me. Come on, I know a place for you.”

She begins walking and she inclines her head back to him, raising a brow. It's painfully similar to that of his mother, and even though it hurts, he feels inclined to obey. Shoulders slumped, Jack follows her and prays that she's not some crazy psychopath who's going to tear out his organs and eat them for breakfast tomorrow morning.

Then again, it would be just his luck, wouldn't it?

~~

As it turns out, she is not a psychopathic murderer, and is instead a pleasant woman by the name of Marzia, co-owner of a little inn in an older part of the town. 

Said inn, _Cutie Pies_ , is a warm little establishment that radiates the vibe of _home_ , and stepping through the doors, he smells vanilla and sweets and all the fuzzy stuff that makes him smile. It's the first real smile Jack's had since this whole ordeal began, and Marzia closes her umbrella, shaking it out. She goes to the front desk where a series of keys hang on a rack behind her and sets the umbrella down. She shakes off her coat as she calls out, “Felix? Felix, come here.”

Marzia opens the book on the desk, flipping through various pages as noises erupts from the stairs to the left. Jack turns his head and an attractive man steps out, scrubbing his fingers through his blond hair. “There you are, Marzia. I was wondering where you'd gone off to.”

His eyes skirt over to Jack, and immediately he straightens his shoulders. Felix walks around the counter to Marzia, kissing her on the cheek, before looking back to him. “Who's this?”

“A guest,” Marzia says, smiling when she looks back to him. Both sets of eyes are on him now, and despite the chill of his wet clothes, he feels hot. “This is Jack. He needs a place to stay.”

“That can be arranged,” Felix nods, running his fingers over the pages in the book. He grabs a pen from the cup on the desk. He's already writing things down. “How long will you be staying?”

Jack tenses. He thinks of the little money in his pocket and knows that he can't afford it. Better to just go ahead and let loose now with his tail between his legs before staying here and being unable to pay. The last thing he needs is _that_ on top of all of this.

“Look, I...” Jack looks down at the floor. He's made a bit of a puddle. “I can't stay here.”

Felix's pen stops. He looks up. Marzia frowns at him. Jack clears his throat and continues awkwardly, “I don't...I don't have any money. So I'll have no way to pay you. And I don't even know how long I'd be here so...I'll just, see myself out. Sorry to waste your time.”

Trying not to meet their gazes, Jack turns around and begins to head back towards the doors, back towards the wet and the cold and the misery. Marzia calls out, “Wait. Jack.” 

He glances back. Marzia says, “Wait there. Don't move. Okay?”

Jack says nothing, but sees her pulling Felix towards the stairs, and halfway up them. He can hear them mumbling indistinctly, and occasionally a word or two gets through, but not enough to make a sentence out. He rocks back and forth on his heels, waiting, and it feels like an eternity before they return, Felix with a slightly exasperated look and Marzia with a triumphant smile.

Felix sits down at the front desk, beckoning Jack over with his fingers. Uncomfortably, he makes his way over and Felix asks, “What's your name? Full name?”

“I said I couldn't--” Jack begins, but Felix shushes him. 

“This is how this is going to work,” he says, fixing him with a stare that basically reads, _don't argue_. “If you have no place to go, you'll stay here. But in exchange, instead of paying us, you'll help us run the inn. Doing odd jobs here and there, shouldn't be too hard, alright?”

From the way that he says it, Jack can tell it isn't his idea. But Marzia smiles brightly at him, and Jack feels like he isn't going to get any luckier. It's better than sleeping outside, even if these two are complete strangers. He's got nothing else.

“Okay,” he agrees, and Felix nods.

“Right,” he goes on. “Now, about that name?”

He breathes in. _Sean_ , he almost says, but it doesn't seem right. Sean is who he used to be, who he left behind in Ireland. In that case, his whole name, Sean McLoughlin, doesn't seem right to say. 

“Jack,” he says instead. His old nickname he's since lost, that only he calls himself. Only he refers to himself as Jack, these days. But what about his last name? He has to create a new persona for himself, a new person. “Jack McLoughlin.”

He uses his real last name, anyway. It's not like it isn't his anymore. It's still his name. It's not like anyone will look for him. 

“Well,” Felix says. He scribbles it down on paper, and then looks up at him. A ghost of a smile is on his lips. “Welcome to _Cutie Pies Inn_. I'm Felix Kjellberg, and I'm sure you've already met my wife, Marzia. We look forward to working with you, Mr. McLoughlin.”

He extends his hand. Jack pauses for just a moment before he shakes it, as if sealing a deal. 

“Let me show you to your room,” Marzia grabs a key from behind the desk. “I think I can find some fresh clothes for you as well, if you want to shower. We can also dry those for you, if you wish.”

The thought of a shower and warmth is enough to have Jack nodding before she even finishes. Marzia glides along the floor and up the stairs, and Jack follows her, listening to the creaking of the wood as he goes.

She goes up several steps before stepping out into the hall, where she goes down to the room at the end of the it. Marzia slips the key in, unlocks it, and opens it, gesturing for him to go inside. 

Jack steps inside. The room is small, but not cramp. It's a comfortable sort of small, a reddish tint to the entire room. There is a bed and a bathroom and a window, with a small lamp on the nightstand. Across from the bed there is a tiny television set, and a chair next to the window. 

It's immensely perfect, he thinks. Without warning, tears begin to well up in his eyes again. Jack turns back to Marzia and whispers, “I don't know how to thank you.” 

There's a glint in Marzia's eyes as she says, “No need to thank us. Let me go get you some fresh clothes.”

She leaves Jack to his thoughts, and to avoid making anything soggy, he takes off his backpack and sets it by the nightstand, sitting on the floor. A soft silence washes over him, and he closes his eyes. Weariness fills him. 

Before long, Marzia returns, sweeping into the room with grace. Before he can even stand up to meet her, she kneels down and hands him neatly folded garments. A plain shirt and jeans, and even a clean pair of boxers. He takes them. 

“These are some of Felix's older things,” she explains. “Go ahead and take a shower. There are clean towels hanging up. Afterward, if you'd like, come down and have dinner with us, if you're not too tired.”

Marzia smiles again and then leaves him to himself, and Jack holds the clothes in his hands, trembling with an unknown feeling. 

He stands and heads towards the shower.

~~

Despite his hair still being wet, Jack feels warm. In his new set of clothes, he heads downstairs and into the lobby, where he glances around. He's not sure where to go, but as he approaches the front desk, Felix appears from the door on the right, and says, “Oh, there you are. Come on, this way.”

He walks back towards the door and Jack follows him through. Inside reveals a orderly looking kitchen, and Marzia spooning out something into three bowls. His stomach growls, and he flushes in embarrassment, but Marzia just laughs, and Felix snickers. 

“Someone sounds hungry,” Marzia gestures for him to come over. She sets the bowls down at the table off to the side. “Eat, you must be starving.” 

Felix pulls up an extra chair for him at the table set for two, and he sits down, mumbling his thanks under his breath. He thinks maybe neither of them heard, but the way that Felix nods and Marzia continues to smile indicate that they probably did.

One sip, and he's in heaven. It's the most amazing thing he's tasted, and Jack is sure he isn't just saying that because he's hungry. It's honestly delicious and he tries to bite back a groan of pleasure from it. 

“Marzia is the best chef there is around,” Felix grins, obviously taking note of his satisfaction. “Usually, she takes care of the cooking in the inn. But occasionally I help out—I'm not too bad myself.” 

Jack nods politely as he talks, continuing to enjoy the soup a little bit more quietly. At this point, Felix and Marzia begin to talk about things he knows nothing about, and people he knows nothing about, so he listens absently, trying simultaneously to be interested and not eavesdrop at the same time, regardless of the fact that he's actively sitting with them.

“So, Jack,” Felix says, shifting his gaze to him. “What brings you here, soaking wet?”

“Your wife dragged me here,” Jack says, then pales, realizing that he may have come off as rude or sassy. He clears his throat. “That is to say, well--”

But Felix laughs heartily anyway, shaking his head. “Yeah, Marzia has a way of doing things like that, don't you, _dear_?” 

Marzia shrugs, unfazed by the comment. “I did what I had to do.”

“But what I meant was,” Felix goes on. “What brought you _here_? Your accent definitely isn't from around these parts. Irish, I'd say? So far from home.”

Jack swallows. “I'm...traveling. Far away from home, yeah. From a little town close to Dublin, actually...”

He rubs at the back of his neck. Felix presses, “All alone? No siblings, parents? They just let you run off into the wild with nothing to you but a backpack? No money, at that?”

His icy blue eyes freeze him, and Jack stumbles, “Well, you see, it's like, that...well...my parents...my siblings...they are...”

He can't get the words out. What if Felix and Marzia send him back, finding out that he has a family to go back to? Although, technically, they aren't really anymore...they made that painfully clear. 

Marzia interjects, “Felix. He's tired. Don't bombard him. Besides, we need to be heading to bed at this hour.”

Her gaze flickers to him. “Since you'll be helping us, I suggest you get some rest as well. We usually get up about six, and eat breakfast around seven. So anytime between then is good. We'll tell you what you need to do tomorrow morning, but it will mostly be easy things, like working the front desk and buzzing around with our guests. No trouble.” 

Jack sucks in a deep breath, sighing as he nods his head towards her. Felix eyes Jack for a moment with an unreadable look, before he clears the dishes away and puts them in the sink. Marzia rises too, and says, “Goodnight, Jack. Sleep well.”

Felix acknowledges him with a small wave, and the couple leaves, presumably to a room of their own. Jack heads back to his own room, padding inside. He locks the door behind him and leans against it for a beat, wondering how on earth he'd gotten so lucky with this. 

He breathes. He reaches into his soggy backpack and withdraws his phone, still wet but functional. Jack checks it for any messages, but sees none, and even though it's what he was expecting, he still feels disheartened. It's almost dead, he notices, but he doesn't grab his charger. It doesn't matter, anyway. He leaves it on the nightstand.

Jack crawls into bed, shucking off the jeans. He curls underneath the sheets, and though they don't smell like home, it's comforting enough. It has a soft, clean scent, sort of like freshly laundered linen, and he closes his eyes.

Darkness washes over him. He falls into a dreamless sleep. 

~~

Jack rouses at around five. Perhaps it's due to the stress of being in an unfamiliar place, or perhaps it's just because he's afraid of missing his first day. He wants to make a good impression, if nothing else.

His jacket is still wet, so despite the slight chill in the air, he has nothing to put on over. He rubs at his arms to put some sort of heat back into them. Jack wanders downstairs and heads past the front desk, towards the kitchen, assuming that he'll meet Marzia and Felix inside. 

When he walks in, he jumps in surprise on almost colliding with another human. What is it with him and bumping into people? Jack sucks in a sharp breath and backs up, leaning against the door. “Sorry, sorry, sorry--!”

He looks up. Jack is horrified at first at the person's face, but slowly calms when he realizes that it's not actually a face, but a mask. It's white with two circular holes, presumably for the eyes. A long thin line is drawn for a mouth, looking bored. It's not a real mouth.

Jack stares, unsure of what to say. The person tilts their head slightly, then says, “I don't think I recognize you. Did you come in last night? Guests aren't supposed to be back here, y'know.”

It's a man's voice. This confuses him even further.

“I...uh....” Jack stammers. “I don't...I'm not a guest.”

“Oh,” the man says. “Alright. Cool, cool. I guess Felix and Marzia hired you on, then?” 

“Something like that,” Jack clears his throat. “You work here, too?”

The man turns around, shuffling back towards the sink. “Sometimes. I'm kind of just unpaid help, though Felix usually tries to. We're old friends. College. All that jazz, you hear me, man?” 

Jack says nothing, but it doesn't seem like he's paying much attention. He stands awkwardly in the doorway as it opens, bumping into him. He jumps out of the way, and Felix comes in, smiling when he sees the masked man standing there.

“Cry!” he exclaims, rushing over to his friend. Cry is already opening his arms and Felix sweeps him up into a hug, patting him on the back. “When did you get here? Usually you're only around at nights.”

“That's because I'm usually working at this hour,” Cry replies. “Working a _night_ shift does that to you. But hey, buddy. I see you hired some extra help.”

The mask flickers to him. Jack tenses as Felix turns. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Jack. This is Cry, by the way. He's an old friend of mine, he comes around pretty often, you'll likely see him from time to time.”

Cry gives him a small wave. “Hi. Good to meet ya, Jackyboy.”

“You too,” Jack says, though he's not quite sure if he means it.

Felix and Cry begin to talk animatedly about something, and Jack stands in the doorway, uncertain of what to do with himself. Marzia enters the room a minute or two later. “Oh, Cry. Pleasure to see you again.”

Cry gives Marzia a small bow. “The same to you, Mrs. Marzia. Beautiful as always, I see.” 

Marzia grins and Jack assumes Cry is smiling, too, otherwise the hug they share that follows would be a little more than awkward. They seem to all be good friends, it seems. Jack wonders if he should leave them.

“Felix,” Marzia says. “Help me with breakfast, would you? Cry, Jack, you're more than welcome to help if you wish, otherwise, have a seat.”

It's the first time Marzia's acknowledged him, but Jack goes to the table in the kitchen and sits there, folding his hands in his lap. Cry takes a seat opposite him, and the way that he stares at him, the mask unblinking, it unsettles him. 

“You have an accent,” Cry says to him, and Jack nods. “From outta town, I take it?”

“Outta country, more like,” Jack half-smiles. “Ireland.”

“That's what it is,” Cry replies. “Long way from home.”

_Home_. He swallows. He shifts in his chair. “I...guess.”

There's a slight tilt in Cry's head again, perplexed for but a moment. He seems to understand after a beat, though Jack can't comprehend how.

“How come you wear a mask?” Jack asks, to change the subject. Though, genuinely he is curious.

“Why do you have your hair like that?” Cry retorts, and Jack reaches a hand up, feeling his hair.

He shrugs. “Because...I like it?”

“There you go.”

The bluntness of the statement makes Jack snort, and then he covers his mouth. But when he looks up at Felix and Marzia, they're smiling. 

Any tension Jack is feeling relieves, just slightly. But he feels just a little bit better in the strange new environment. 

~~

The work he does isn't laborious by any means. In fact, it's a pretty chill job to do. He pretty much hangs out by the front desk, with either Felix, Marzia, or Cry, and takes people's bags up to their room when they sign in. For a rather small inn, it seems to do some pretty good business.

Marzia makes an effort to talk to him a lot while he's at the desk, almost as if she's genuinely curious about him and his life. None of the questions are particularly invasive, but he tries his best to skirt around answers as best he can. 

Cry hardly talks to him at all, occasionally humming while he does something on his phone. But every now and again, he asks him a question, usually concerning family. While the questions themselves feel utterly normal, for some reason Jack can't help but get the feeling that are part of something much greater. But perhaps he's just paranoid.

Felix just talks a lot. Not really to him, but just in general. Though, at one point Jack sits on the front desk, listening to him, and finds that he really doesn't mind. Felix isn't the most eloquent or articulate of speakers, but he's charming, in a way. He seems to sort of understand that Jack doesn't want to talk about himself, and does it for him, and silently, Jack appreciates it.

Every time he takes bags up to someone's room, they tip him, just a couple of dollars. A part of him thinks he should keep it, but every time he puts a bill into his pocket, it's too heavy, and he knows he'll give it to Felix or Marzia later. They're letting him stay here out of the kindness of their hearts, and it would be downright wicked of him to just...do that. It's practically stealing.

It runs like this for the next few days. Cry comes in and out. He's there some days, some nights, and some days not at all. Jack settles into a sort of routine with the Kjellbergs. He sleeps in the room they gave him every night, usually switching out between his clothes that Marzia dried for him after his first night, and the clothes she gave him. He usually tries to wash them when his night is over. 

He eats breakfast with them in the mornings but usually forgoes lunch. Not for Marzia's lack of offering, but Jack just doesn't want to intrude on them all the time. By dinner, he's usually dying but he never complains about it. 

Slowly, though, he begins to get to know them. Little things. Felix and Marzia are perhaps two of the kindest, funniest people he's ever met. They're only a bit older than him, but infinitely more successful than he is or probably ever will be. They met when they were younger, and were together for six happy years before deciding to get married. 

In a way, Jack is envious of them. They're so blissfully happy, stable, and loved. He would give anything to be in their shoes. 

His first week at _Cutie Pies_ is uneventful, save for meeting Cry. It bleeds into week two slowly, and never once does he get a ring from his parents. He isn't hurt, but he isn't happy about it either. Not a single call from his brothers or sisters either. Either they don't know, or don't care, and Jack doesn't know which one of those scenarios bother him more.

It is day eight of him being there when he's heading across the lobby up towards the stairs, and he hears laughing from behind the front desk. There's always been a door next to it, but he's never paid it any mind before. Jack approaches it, tilting his head to get a better listen, and he vaguely hears Felix talking to someone he isn't familiar with. At least, the voice doesn't sound familiar. 

He glances up at the clock over top the front desk. It's almost ten at night. The door is shut but he wishes it weren't—Jack's curiosity always gets the better of him. But he shouldn't intrude, it's not his place to be somewhere he isn't invited.

“Oh, hey,” Jack turns and Cry is standing there, and he says little else as he knocks once on the door, throwing it open. “Yo, guys, we've got a spectator out here!”

Jack flushes and immediately begins to apologize, but before he can get a word out, Felix calls, “Jack! Why don't you come in? Come on, don't be shy. No need to hover, sheesh.”

He follows Cry into the room, and it's a simple sort of place. In the center is a large table, where Felix sits across from another man. Cry takes a seat next to the other man, proclaiming, “Trio's back together, baby. Man, how long's it been?”

“Too long,” the unknown says, and casts a look back at Jack. “Who's this? New friend? What, you guys replaced me already?”

“Of course not,” Felix rolls his eyes. He gestures to the seat next to him. “Come on over, Jack. Ken, this is Jack. He's been working with us for a while. Jack, meet Ken. Another old friend of mine.”

Ken gives him a warm smile. He's a bit of a large man, larger than Jack is, at any rate. Glasses hang on the bridge of his nose, but he doesn't seem intimidating. Jack smiles back. He hesitantly takes a seat next to Felix. 

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Ken says, extending a hand out across the table.

“Likewise,” Jack replies, taking his hand. Ken has a firm handshake.

Cry pulls out a package of cards from his pocket. He opens it and begins to shuffle the deck, his look flickering over to Jack. “You ever played Spoons?”

Jack stares. “I...haven't played that since I was small.” 

He really hasn't. The last time he played the game was probably secondary school, with a few friends on days where nothing in particular was going on. But it's been so long, he isn't sure he remembers the basics as Felix actually withdraws legitimate plastic spoons, setting them in a neat little row on the table. 

Why are they playing a kids game, anyway?

“Sometimes it's good to get in touch with your kid side, Jack,” Ken says. “Even if you're still a kid.”

He winks, as if letting Jack know he's kidding. Cry deals out the cards, and Jack is surprised when he begins getting them. “I--”

“You're not interrupting us,” Felix says, looking at his cards. “Don't worry 'bout it, Jack. It's nice to have an even number of people. Marzia usually plays but she's out with Mary and Chey, is it? That's your girl, right Cry?” 

“Yeah she is,” Cry affirms, a grin in his voice. “Man, I'm so glad I can say that now.”

“You only danced around her for the better part of a year,” Ken quips, and Cry smacks him on the arm.

“Whatever, let's just play.”

The first round goes by without much talking. Jack feels weird sitting there, but more than that, he's trying to recall the rules of the game. He's pretty sure it involves getting four of a kind, and getting a spoon before anyone else, like musical chairs. Might as well give it a shot.

As it turns out, he's the first to make four of a kind. While the others are idly flipping through cards, Jack grabs a spoon, passing on the cards in the circle. He waits for someone to realize a spoon is gone, and grins when Cry finally looks up, pauses, then takes one. There's another brief moment before Ken notices as well, and makes a grab for it. Felix notices a little too late.

“Ha!” Ken yells triumphantly, and Felix rolls his eyes.

“I invite you into my inn, let you sit at my table, and offer you a place in my heart,” he says scathingly. “And _this_ is how you repay me?” 

Cry lets out a snort, and Jack bites down on his knuckle to keep from giggling. Ken soon bursts out into laughter and Felix follows. 

It's the beginning of a fantastic night. 

~~

“So you in college, Jack?” Ken prompts, during a more mellow round of Spades. 

He's partnered with Cry for this round. He throws out a King of Hearts, praying that Felix or Ken won't trump it. He looks up and says, “No, I...I graduated a bit ago. A few months, I think.”

“Oh, I didn't know that,” Felix quips. “What did you major in?”

Jack shifts in his chair. “Ah...hotel management, actually.”

Cry snickers. “Well, looks like you didn't end up in a bad place, then, if you're working something similar to your major.”

“We're not as fancy as a hotel,” Felix simpers. “But we're good enough. This place is my pride and joy, to be honest. It was a big surprise, definitely, but it's been great.”

Another trick taken for Jack and Cry. Cry sweeps up the cards, and Felix continues, “I don't think I told you, Jack, but this whole inn was Marzia's idea. She's always had her heart set on running one, don't ask me why. But it's a dream, and one I wanted to give her. So after we finished college, we settled down in this place. It was tough at first, but all things considered, we've been pretty successful.”

Cry takes the next trick. Jack watches Felix, wondering where this is going. “Anyway, tell us a little more about you. How old are you? What are your dreams? You never did say why you came here all the way from Ireland. God, that's a way's away.”

He grips his cards a little tighter. Jack bits his lower lip, tossing out a low card, just to get rid of it. “I'm twenty-four. And I got my reasons.” 

“Such a baby,” Ken sighs. “Traveling, I take it? Doing that whole 'round the world trip before you go into the work force?”

Jack doesn't reply. Felix's gaze slides to him, obviously recalling his sopping, unable to pay for a room form a few weeks ago. He doesn't correct Ken, but doesn't oust Jack either.

“Family?” Cry suggests. “Gettin' on your nerves a little? Decided to give 'em a big fuck you?”

He swallows a lump in his throat. Stupidly, he feels tears in his eyes, and he breathes in, willing them away. All three men are now looking at him, expectant, gratefully not mentioning his loss of composure. Jack is sure if any of them were to mention his state, he would come undone.

Jack breathes through it. He plays another card. He says, “Yeah. Just...decided to get away for a while.”

The next wave of cards falls on top of his. He decides to omit the information about how he's getting away for a little more than a while. Indefinitely. Perhaps forever. He isn't exactly going to tell him he's been disowned, is he? 

Felix clears his throat. “So, anyway. Did I mention earlier that Ken _totally got engaged to Mary_ and told _none of us_?”

Cry gasps in mock horror, whirling on his friend. “Oh no you didn't, bitch.” 

Jack is grateful for the change in topic. 

~~

The night ends a little after three in the morning. Jack feels the weariness deep in him, but with a sore belly, he knows he hasn't laughed this hard in a long time. Felix, Cry, and Ken seem to have enjoyed themselves, as well.

“Man, I gotta get together with you guys more often,” Ken whistles, standing up from his chair. He stretches his arms. “I'll make sure to set some more time aside.”

He turns to Jack. “It was nice playing with you, Jack. I hope to see you here next time I visit, which will hopefully be soon.”

“If you're not all caught up in wedding plans,” Cry chirps. 

A soft wave of laughter hits them again, and a round of goodbyes and goodnights are exchanged before Ken makes his exit, followed shortly by Cry.

Before Jack can make his own getaway up the stairs, Felix stops him. 

“Jack,” he says, and his tone is so much different than normal. It's more...serious, concerned even. 

Jack is afraid he's going to ask, now that his guests are gone. He feels frozen in place. Felix approaches him, and for a moment stills, before putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You should know,” Felix starts, and then stops himself, shaking his head. He clears his throat, squeezing his shoulder tight. “Know that, you're good. You've been a really big help around here. We appreciate it, Marzia and I. The guests seem to like you, too. Got this charm to you, they say.”

Jack reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out the small stack of bills that he's been collecting over the last few days. He extends them out. “Here's the money they tipped me with. I'm not really...employed here, so I thought...”

Felix immediately pushes the money away. “Keep it. It's your tip. Besides, maybe you should go out and buy yourself something nice.”

Jack hasn't really left the inn since arriving. He rocks on the heels of his feet. “But I...”

“If you argue with me,” Felix warns. “I'll get Marzia. And you won't win with her.”

He grins, and Jack tilts his head back, and laughs. 

~~

It is the fourth day of his third week. Jack is working at the front desk while Felix and Marzia take care of something in the back. He's doodling in a notebook he'd bought from the store after Felix told him to buy something nice. Doodling is calming to him, somehow.

Jack only notices someone entering when their shadow looms over him. He looks up and meets brilliant brown eyes, and his heart drops to his stomach.

“Hey, I don't recognize you,” a deep, smooth voice says, a smile following his words. “But good morning, anyway.” 

Jack swallows. The man before him is gorgeous. His hair is longer than his, definitely, luxurious and black, with a slight scruff on his cheeks. His glasses hang loosely on his nose as he looks over them at him. The brilliant brown eyes gaze upon him in a way that makes him squirm in his seat, just a bit, as if he sees literally nothing else.

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I...uh, I'm new here. Can I, uh...”

Jack scrambles through the pages of the sign in book, grabbing his pen. He finds the first empty space available, and asks, “Name?” 

“Mark Fischbach,” the stranger replies. What a name, Jack thinks. 

He ends up asking for a spelling, which Mark spells for him slowly, but not in a mocking sort of way. Just to make sure he hears. 

“And how long 're you staying?” Jack prompts, and Mark shrugs.

“Indefinite?” he asks, almost as if uncertain if that's a real thing. 

Jack puts a slash through the box labeled “time,” having had this happen before. He feels as if he's getting this gig down pretty well. He turns the book, pointing at the spot for Mark to sign off. The stranger takes the pen and signs his name in an elegant sort of scrawl. 

He whirls and grabs a key, handing it to him. Mark takes it and smiles at him, their fingers brushing just briefly. Jack clears his throat again.

“Can I get your bags for you?” he says, as per his job entails. But he's sure he would have asked anyway, even if it hadn't been.

“Oh, no,” Mark replies. “No need for that. I've got it, don't worry.”

Before Jack can protest, Felix comes out, saying something to Marzia over his shoulder before he locks eyes with Mark. His eyes light up. “Mark!”

Mark grins wider. “Felix! Hey, man! How are you?”

Felix trots over, pulling the other man into a hug. They seem to be very comfortable with one another, another old friend, maybe? Marzia comes in shortly after, her own smile brightening. She darts over too, hugging the older male. They exchange kisses on the cheek. 

“I didn't know you were in town,” Felix says, patting him on the back. “Why didn't you say something? We would've met you at the airport.”

“Thought it would be better if I surprised you,” Mark answers. He looks at Jack. “Didn't know I'd see this cutie at the desk.”

Mark gives him a wink, and Jack flushes, sucking in a deep breath. He feels a scream coming on, but manages to keep it locked up in his throat. He looks away, and the other three share a hearty laugh. 

“Anyway,” Felix goes on. “What are you doing here? Staying at the inn? Why would you do that when you have a perfectly good apartment a few blocks from here?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Really? I've been away for a month, and you expect me to go back to my lonely, empty, and sad apartment, when I could come here and spend some time in good company, with good food, and a warm atmosphere? Where else would I go?” 

“We're humbled by your stay,” Felix grins, and grabs Mark's bags. “Come on, then. I'll take care of this.” 

They begin to walk towards the stairs, but right before he walks up, Mark turns to him and gives a little wave, and stunned, Jack waves back. 

~~

Mark Fischbach, as it turns out, is another old friend, but not quite as old as Ken or Cry. Felix has too many friends, Jack decides. 

But it is hard not to like Mark from the get-go, he realizes. A little bit after their initial meeting, Mark swings by the front desk to talk to him. 

“Hey, I don't think I got your name,” Mark says, giving him another small smile. He pauses briefly, and Jack assumes he's prompting for a name.

“It's Jack,” he replies, offering a small smile in return. “Mark, right?”

“Ding-ding,” Mark sings, leaning on the counter. “Good memory. You been working here long?”

Jack doesn't make eye contact. He's afraid of getting flustered. “No. About three weeks, now. Almost four, to be exact.” 

“Ah, I see,” he answers. “Liking it here? Felix and Marzia are great bosses, I imagine. Plus this place is lovely. Much better than any hotel, believe me. I've seen lots, never once been in a place better than this. It's practically home.”

Jack's heart seizes, just a bit. He doesn't know why, but whenever the word home crops up, his stomach twists. But he smiles through it.

“They're great, yeah,” he swallows. “I'm glad to be here, of all places.” 

Mark looks like he's going to ask more questions, but his phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket and reads it. 

“Sorry to run,” he apologizes. “I'll see you later, Jack?” 

It's a question, but somehow, it feels like a promise as he walks out the doors, and into the streets.

~~

Jack is washing dishes in the kitchen when Marzia strolls in.

“You and Mark seem to be getting along,” she says lightly, and Jack almost drops a plate.

“Huh?” 

She laughs. “I'm glad you and Mark are getting along. I see you two talking at the counter. Leave it to Mark to make friends with everyone he meets.”

“He does that a lot?” Jack asks, setting the last dish into the strainer. Afterwards, he shuts the water off and dries off his hands. “Make friends, I mean.”

Marzia nods. “He's like that. Mark tries to find good in everyone. Believes that everyone has their own demons, and that he should be kind to everyone. So he says. He likes to make people smile. Seems he's already working his magic on you.”

Without realizing it, talking about Mark has made him smile. Jack's smile drops the minute she addresses it. She laughs again. 

“It's nice to see you smile,” Mariza comments softly. “You look like you were made to smile.”

She leaves the kitchen, and a weird feeling twists in his gut. 

~~

Mark is in and out over the next few days. But he always makes time to talk to Jack at some point, no matter where he's at. Whether he's at the front desk or in the kitchen or running errands for the Kjellbergs, he always finds him. 

But he finds that Mark's conversations are pleasant. They make him feel bubbly on the inside. Part of him is utterly terrified of that feeling, whilst the other side feels totally exhilarated. It's a new and foreign experience, just like the rest of his time here. 

One late night at the desk, Mark asks, “Do you have a phone?”

Jack thinks of his dead phone, lying on his nightstand, having had no need for it for a long while. He shrugs. “Why?”

“I just thought,” Mark rubs the back of his neck. It must be a trick of the light, for Mark looks a little pink in the cheeks. “I could get your number? You can have mine too. Just for, you know, whatever.” 

A heat blooms in his stomach. Jack clears his throat, letting out a soft sigh. “Uh, yeah. I...yeah. Okay. Here, I'll...write down my number for you and you can...text me whenever, I guess.”

Mark's eyes light up. “Awesome. Here, I'll just get my phone, and you can type your number in, yeah?” 

He withdraws his phone and hands it to him. Jack types in his digits and hands it back to him. Mark's smile swells up to be even larger, if possible. 

“Awesome,” he repeats, then replaces his phone in his pocket. “I guess I'll text you. It's getting kind of late, so I think I'll go up to my room. I take it you're gonna be here a little longer?”

Jack starts to nod, but a voice interrupts, “I got it. Go on up to bed, Jackyboy. You look exhausted.”

Cry is elusive as ever. How long has he even been here? He struts up to the counter, looks at Mark, and says, “Hey, buddy. Been a while. How was Spain?”

“Hot,” Mark replies. “But beautiful. You should go sometime.”

“I'll add it to my list,” Cry promises, then shoos Jack out of the chair. He stands up. 

Cry sits, spinning in the chair a little. Jack mumbles, “Thanks, Cry.”

“No worries,” Cry waves him away. “Go get some sleep. You look like you need it, pal.”

Jack glances at Mark, who seems to be waiting for him, given the switch out. He heads towards the stairs and up the steps, heading towards his room. He's conscious of Mark behind him, but he knows that, given Mark's key number, he's on the same hall as him. 

He gets to his room and withdraws his key from his pocket. He gives Mark a small smile, opening his door. “G'night, Mark. Sleep well.”

Mark stares at him for a moment, then returns the smile. “Goodnight, Jack. You too.”

Jack goes into his room and closes the door behind him, locking it soundly. He sucks in a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair.

Not now, he thinks. Now is _not_ a good time to be liking someone. 

Not that he does. Like Mark. Well, he does, but not like _that_. He's just a guy. Who's really nice. And really attractive. And has a great smile. And makes Jack's stomach twist when he talks to him--

Jack curses at himself. What would Felix and Marzia think if he tried to pull a move on one of their best friends? He can't afford it right now. Not that he even knows how to pull a move anyway. 

He approaches his nightstand and picks up his phone. It's dead. It has been for a while. He grabs his charger from his bag and connects it to the wall, before plugging the phone in. It blinks to life, the charging symbol popping up on its screen. 

Jack sets it back on the nightstand, letting it charge. Then, he shimmies off his pants and jacket, crawling into bed. He'll shower in the morning.

~~

The next few days roll out in that same sort of style. Mark is in and out, as is Cry, Felix and Marzia are steadfast faces, and Jack lives, for the most part, comfortably at _Cutie Pies_ , wondering what his family is up to. 

But now, his phone is constantly buzzing. It's been a while since it's lit up so much. Mark is always texting him sporadically throughout the day, making small talk. When they discover he has a phone, Felix and Marzia exchange numbers with him. He gets Cry's later, as well. 

It has almost been a month since he's arrived when he's invited out to dinner with the whole group. Felix, Marzia, Cry, Cheyenne, Ken, Mary, Mark—the whole nine yards. Apparently, it's the first time they've been able to get together when all of them were actually free. 

“You should come with us,” Marzia tells him, and she seems like she means it. It doesn't feel like a fake invitation that she's extending only because she feels obligated. “Everyone will be there tonight. You can meet Cheyenne and Mary, too.”

Honestly? Jack feels really weird about going. He knows them, yes, but at the same time, they're still strangers to him. All of them have known each other for over a year, and are close, but he is the lone outsider, the stray Marzia picked up off the streets, practically. Wouldn't it be intruding if he just...tags along?

But Marzia wears him down, and he agrees to go. 

~~

Jack feels ill.

He's hardly eaten a thing. Surrounded by all of these people, he feels out of place. Jack fidgets in his seat, which is next to Mark, and as Mark is recounting one of his stories from one of his various trips, Jack's stomach is destroying itself from the inside.

It's a large circular table he's sitting at, and as he gazes around, all he sees are friends. But not his friends. He feels almost like a spectator, a ghost, looking at the picture from an outside point of view, as if he were a waiter at the bar, or someone at another table. They all look happy. They all look natural, normal, as if they're all meant to be here. But he isn't. He isn't meant to be here. 

Jack knows he's not meant to be here. 

Nausea is overwhelming him. Without warning, Jack leaps up from his seat and darts towards the bathroom. No one is in there, but it wouldn't have mattered if they were. He goes straight to one of the stalls and vomits what little food he did consume. The rest is dry heaving.

What a fucking mess he is, he thinks. Jack scrubs the tears out of his eyes, a side effect from the gagging. Or maybe he had already been crying. Who knows? He leans back against the stall and breathes in and out slowly, trying to gather himself.

Jack knows he needs to go. He needs to get out of these people's lives. They're all perfect and wonderful and lovely, a puzzle that's complete. There's no room for him. There's no room for a chipped piece with no puzzle to fit himself into. 

He leaves the stall. Jack leans over the sink, turning it on. He scoops some of the water from the faucet into his mouth, trying to rid himself of the acrid taste on his tongue and in his throat. He spits, and lets the cool water run over his hands, sighing. 

Wiping his hands on his pants, he turns the faucet off, and stares at himself for a moment, unsure of what to think.

“Jack?”

Jack turns. Mark stands there, his face pinched in concern. He approaches slowly, as if asking for permission to come forward, and when Jack doesn't say anything, he does so. Jack clears his throat, not meeting his eyes.

“What's up?” he asks, hoping his voice doesn't sound hoarse. It sounds okay to him, but then again, he can't be sure.

“You left so abruptly,” Mark explains. “We got worried. I offered to go and see if you were okay. Are you?”

Jack swallows, wiping at his mouth. He tries to smile. “Yeah. I guess what I ate didn't agree with me.”

“You hardly ate,” Mark counters. “What's wrong, Jack?”

He finally raises his eyes, and Mark's gaze is boring right into him. He sighs, shaking his head. How can he explain? He can't. He really can't. There's no way to that he can articulate himself so it'll make sense. Jack doesn't say anything. 

Tentatively, Mark reaches out for him. It oddly reminds him of Felix, especially when he squeezes his shoulder. He says, “Hey, Jack. You know...they—we, really like you. Just wish you'd talk to us a little more. I get that you might kind of feel out of your element with us, since we've all known each other for years, but we'll try to be more inclusive, okay? Wouldn't hurt for you to initiate some stuff, too. I'm sure you've got plenty of stories to share.”

He smiles encouragingly. Jack feels his heart melting. He chews on his lower lip. “I guess so.”

“That's the spirit,” Mark nods. He opens his arms. “Need a hug?”

Hugging Mark Fischbach in the bathroom of an old school burger joint is the last thing Jack expected for this night. But it isn't unpleasant as Mark hugs him tightly, and for a brief moment, Jack feels utterly safe. 

It's over quick, though. Together, they leave the bathroom and retake their seats. The minute he sits down, Cry says, “Good to see you didn't fall in, buddy. That would've been sad.”

They laugh, and Jack feels his face heating up. He tries to grin back, but feels that uneasiness creeping up on him again, like he's the butt of some joke, though rationally he knows they're only teasing. 

Surprising him, he feels something brush his knee. Jack glances down and sees Mark's hand there, and from the corner of his eye, Mark is looking at him. It's a look that asks if the gesture is okay. 

It's more than okay. Slowly, his nerves somehow begin to fade away. 

~~

He becomes a little more comfortable with the group after that. 

Jack smiles at them a little more. He talks to them a little more, actually initiating some conversation rather than watching them from a distance, waiting for them to prompt him. 

He doesn't know when it happens, but at some point, he starts to feel just a little bit better. Like he's actually managing to sort himself out. The stress and anguish he'd arrived with is slowly being replaced with new memories of happier thoughts. It's a wave of relief. 

It's a late night when he's wandering by the kitchen, when he overhears his name. He stills by the door, pressing his back to the wall next to it. It's Felix and Marzia, obviously, their voices soft, but not secretive. They must think he's asleep. Glancing at the clock, it is rather late.

“...Yeah, that makes sense. God, though. I remember being so irritated with you. Because he could've been anyone, Marzia. You didn't know,” it's Felix's voice.

“There was something about him,” Marzia replies. “I didn't think anything of him at first. But I look into his eyes, and I saw something there, Felix. I knew that he needed someone. I couldn't let him go. I thought, if I let him go, he won't have anyone, and I didn't want that. I don't know why I didn't want that but I just...didn't.” 

Jack's heart swells in his chest. Especially when he hears Felix say, “I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad I let you have the final say. He's a good guy. I just hope that whatever he's going through, he's figuring it out alright. And I hope he'll tell us one day.”

~~

A few days after overhearing Felix and Marzia, Mark asks him out for coffee.

He's a little more than unsure of how to answer. Jack works pretty much every day—it's how he gets to keep staying here. He thinks about not answering at all when Felix comes in, shooing him out the door.

“Just go, for fuck's sake,” he tells him. “You've been cooped up here nearly every day. Go on out on your date with him, go on. And Mark, make sure he eats something, will ya?” 

So he goes. Part of him is utterly nervous, while the other part of him feels really happy that Felix is okay with them going out together. Mark takes him down to a coffee shop about two streets over, and the inside smells almost sickeningly sweet. Mark orders a coffee for himself, and asks Jack what he wants, and Jack orders a black coffee and a cinnamon bagel, because when he just orders the coffee Mark gives him that _look_ , and he knows that he's taking Felix's comment seriously.

Jack does end up eating the bagel, and drinking about half of the coffee. He's a little hungrier than anticipated, and he ends up having a pretty nice, low key talk with him. Mark definitely flirts with him a little bit, and Jack ashamedly flirts back. 

He gets to know Mark pretty well. Mark is a biomedical engineer who, though he doesn't have to travel a lot, chooses to pretty frequently. He had grown up in Cincinnati, and met two of his dearest friends there, two that Jack hadn't met. He met Felix and the others approximately three years ago, all of them steadfast and tight from the start. 

He takes his coffee with milk and sugar. He absolutely hates spicy things but tends to eat them pretty frequently. He has an older brother and a mother, along with a stepmother, all of whom he gets along with tremendously.

Jack listens a lot. He says little about himself. 

At the end of the date, if he can even call it that, the familiar uneasiness rears its head. Jack knows he can't do this right now. He can't...date. 

“Mark,” he says, gazing down into his mug. His leg is bouncing up and down uncontrollably. “Mark, I...I'm sorry to...like, I want to...but I can't...I can't really...be with anyone right now, you know? I'm not...at that place yet.”

Jack waits for Mark to sigh in disappointment, or to argue with him, or to press for answers. But he doesn't. Instead, Mark pauses for just a second, before saying, “That's okay. I'm okay with that.”

“You are?” Jack looks up, and Mark is smiling that familiar smile.

“Yeah,” Mark takes another drink from his coffee. “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed, but I get it, really. I can't force you to be ready for something. I'm fine with being friends, too. You're really cool, Jack. I'll take you anyway I can get you.”

Jack thinks he's going to cry, but before he can, he takes another swig of his coffee. 

~~

It is exactly a month since he's arrived that he gets a text from his brother. Then his sister. Then his other sister. Then his brother again. Then his other brother.

Jack feels his fingers grow cold when he sees the messages, all a variation of: _Sean, what's going on? Where are you?_

Panic settles into him. Do they know? Why don't they just call him? What have his mother and father told them about the situation? Have they even been home? Are they calling to cut him out too? 

He ends up deleting all of their messages. He regrets it later but can't bring himself to text them back. 

~~

At three-thirty in the morning, two days later, Jack stumbles down the hall towards Mark's room, knocks on the door, unable to contain himself.

He doesn't know why he thinks Mark will answer. But he is tired and his mind is fuzzy and all rational thought has left him. He waits for a moment, a little woozy, swaying back and forth slightly. He feels drunk, but he isn't. Jack really is just tired. 

Jack is just about to leave when the door opens, and Mark yawns, dragging his fingers through his hair as he mumbles sleepily, “Jack?”

He swallows the lump forming in his throat. A sinking feeling consumes him, and Jack feels his heart racing. Almost, just almost, he doesn't know why he's here. But then he does. 

“I like you,” Jack whispers. He licks his lips. “I like you a lot, but I'm scared. I'm really scared. I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just so scared. I've never done this before. But I really like you. And I can't like you. But I do. God. I'm sorry.”

He's babbling. Mark seems a little bit more awake now as he pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, hey, what? Jack, it's okay.”

“No it's not!” Jack shrieks, then covers his mouth, aware of the other guests sleeping down this hallway. “It's not. I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry for waking you up. I don't know what I'm talking about.”

Mark steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him. He takes Jack carefully by the shoulders, walking him back towards his room. “It's okay. Jack, are you drunk by chance?”

“No,” Jack mumbles. “I'm just really, really tired.”

“Good,” Mark says, and then opens the door to Jack's room. He walks him inside. Closing the door behind him, he continues, “Okay. Now what's going on?”

Jack trembles, running his own fingers through his short hair. He feels his heart in his throat. “I'm sorry. Fuck, I keep saying that, don't I? Fuck. It's just. God, when I said I couldn't be with you, I meant it. But it's not like, I'm not ready. I just really can't. It's fucking terrifying, right now. Everything in my life is a mess. I'm not at that place because I have no place. I have no place at all and I need to keep what I've got right now and if I'm with you then I don't think I'll have it anymore and I need it, I need you, and I need all of this and this makes no sense and--!”

He sucks in a deep breath. Mark cups his cheeks, forcing him to meet his eyes. He sucks in another breath, just as Mark whispers, “Breathe, Jack.” 

He breathes out. He swallows again. Mark removes his hands. Jack covers his face. “I left Ireland because my family disowned me. I came out to them and they thought I was disgusting. They told me to get out and not to come back. I was terrified. Stupidly, I blew the last of my savings on a plane ticket to get the fuck outta there. But then I had nowhere to go. My brothers and sisters all moved out, but I was afraid they wouldn't accept me, either. I couldn't handle being rejected by everyone that was supposed to love me all at once. So I ran. And I ran and I ran and I'm here now.”

Jack shudders. “And I'm here now. And even though I'm here now, I'm scared of losing this. I'm scared of losing Felix and Marzia, and Cry and Ken and Mary and Cheyenne and you, because even though I don't know you guys that well, you've become so important to me. You're all I have. You took me in and cared for me even though you didn't know me.”

He's crying now. He can't stop shaking. “If I don't have you guys, I have nothing. And I need something. And what if they don't think I'm good enough for you? What if I hurt you? What if I already am? I'm walking such a dangerous line, Mark. You see why I can't like you? You see why--?”

Jack doesn't get to finish. Mark pulls him into a strong embrace, tight against him, his hand on the back of his head. He pets his hair gently, and Jack buries his face into Mark's shoulder, trying to breathe, to clear his head. He's too tired for this.

“I meant it when I said it was okay,” Mark murmurs, his voice so close to his ear. “And I still mean it, now. Jack, you have to realize, whatever you do, you won't lose me. You won't lose us. Everyone adores you. Even if you haven't known us that long, you're one of us, now.”

He pulls away, wiping the tears away from his eyes. Jack lets out a small hiccup and Mark chuckles. “And we don't let each other go.” 

Mark hugs Jack again, and he holds him until his sobs subside. He swears he feels a kiss in his hair, but maybe he's just imagining it.

Jack lets out a heavy sigh, after a bit, and Mark says, “Good?” 

Not really, Jack thinks. But maybe he will be. He nods in spite of this, and Mark tells him, “You really should get some sleep. Come on, into bed with you.”

Jack allows Mark to guide him into his bed, covering him up. But before Mark can leave, Jack grabs him by the sleeve.

“I'll be asleep in just a few minutes,” Jack mumbles. “Can you...sorry. Can you...just stay until then?”

Mark gazes at him for a moment, and then sits at the edge of the bed. “Sure thing, Jack. Go on to sleep.”

Normally, someone watching him sleep would've kept Jack awake even longer. But strangely, it's comforting this time, and he falls asleep with ease.

~~

He wakes early to Mark next to him. Jack doesn't scream or freak out. His heart swells in his chest, and he falls back asleep. 

~~

When he wakes again, his phone is ringing. Mark is gone and he rolls over, grabbing the phone from the nightstand. He nearly drops it when he reads the name. He quickly ignores the call, sucking in a sharp breath.

Jack crawls out of bed, and reads the time. When he sees it, he swears loudly, yanking on his hoodie and pants as he runs down the stairs. He bursts into the kitchen.

“Finally!” Felix complains. He's sitting at the table, a notepad in front of him with various receipts and papers lying around. “Thought you were never gonna wake up! Was sleeping with Mark _that_ cozy?”

Jack's face catches fire at the implication. Apparently, the look on his face is hilarious, because both Marzia and Felix burst out laughing. He hadn't even known Marzia was there. 

“Yeah, you bet we saw you two this morning,” Felix continues. “Came up to get you because you didn't come down on time, and you usually do. Thought something might have been up. Saw you sleeping with him, decided to let you sleep. Though I wouldn't have if I'd have known you were going to take so long!”

Jack covers his face. “It's not like that...”

Marzia giggles. Felix says, “Hey, bro. It's fine. We don't care. Actually, if he had to end up with any of us, we're glad it's you. Certainly wasn't going to be me. Or Marzia. And God forbid if it was Cry. That's too much voice action for any of us to handle.”

He goes back to writing, laughing a little at his own joke. “Chill, Jack. I can hear you fretting. Hit the front desk, would ya? Since you're so _late_ starting for work today. I say, I think that's your first tardy. Tsk, tsk, Mr. McLoughlin!”

Blood is rushing in his ears. But he's hung up on the fact that Felix had said _it's fine_.

~~

His phone rings on and off all day. Jack ignores it every time. He doesn't see Mark for the rest of the day, and hopes that he hadn't upset him, somehow.

Mark had seemed okay last night, and seemed okay this morning when they were sleeping together, but then again, he hadn't left a note. Jack reprimands himself internally—of course he hadn't left a note. It isn't like they had a one night stand. 

His heart is a tango of confusion. Between Mark and his constantly ringing phone, uncertainly is boiling hard inside of him. Eventually, the phone gets so annoying that he answers it on a whim, and when he holds it to his ear, he isn't prepared for what he hears.

“Sean?” a female voice whispers. “Sean, are you there?”

Jack can't force himself to speak. He remains silent, breathing just softly enough to where he knows she knows he's there. 

“Sean, please,” she continues. “Sean. Come on, little brother. Answer me.”

He hangs up. 

~~

There is a clash between his old life and his new life. He realizes that he must choose at this point which he would rather be with. He cannot do both. He puts his phone on silent, ignoring it for the next few days. He lets it die and doesn't charge it.

Because of the inability to communicate with him through technology, Mark returns to talking to him while at work. No awkwardness lies between them, but neither of them bring up the night that Jack spilled his heart out to him. But Mark looks at him a little differently, and Jack can't tell if it's good or bad. 

Jack no longer feels the stab of homesickness and he wonders when it left him. 

He's lost count of the days he's been here, but it's been a while. Maybe that's why Ireland is starting to feel a little less like home and a little more like a far off place he no longer knows. Maybe he doesn't anymore. Did he ever? 

After his confrontation with Mark, and his reasoning for being unable to be with him, they are stronger than ever, somehow. They flirt carelessly in front of everyone and Jack feels a little happier than he normally would. No one ever tells them to stop. 

It's raining the day that he gives into his desires. Felix's words, Marzia's smiles, and Mark's assurances convince him that it's worth chasing after. 

It's two in the afternoon, Mark drops by to ask him out to lunch, and he kisses him, with sweaty palms and a rapid heart before he can convince himself not to. 

Mark is stunned. He remains stunned, meeting Jack's gaze, as if to make sure that it really happened. Jack offers him a tentative smile, unsure of what to do next. 

They both stand there, immobile for a long moment, before, “Just kiss him again already!”

Both heads turn, and Ken stands there, holding a bag along with a dripping umbrella in the other. Mark needs little other incentive before he grabs Jack and kisses him again.

“Fuckin' finally,” he hears Felix from the opposite doorway, and Marzia _aw_ ing too. 

~~

Jack whispers his secrets to them in the dark of the night, right before bed. He shakes too much and stumbles over his words, hardly getting a sentence out. But Felix and Marzia only hug him, and it's too much.

No. It's enough. 

~~

He answers the phone. 

Jack is sitting on his bed, partly waiting for Mark to come back, partly waiting for Marzia to come get him, and partly waiting to hear a response from whichever sibling called him this time. 

He's counted now. It's been exactly two months and four days since leaving home. A little stronger, he thinks. He's a little stronger, now. Just enough to answer the phone. 

A silence waits for him when the call connects. He hears breathing, incoherent whispering, then, “Sean?”

Jack picks out the voice. “Amelia?” 

A gasp. Then, “I got him! Guys, I got him! Jesus, Sean, where have you been? We've been calling you for weeks!” 

“My phone was dead,” he tries, unsure of why he's lying. He hears the clamoring of his other siblings in the background.

“Bullshit,” she hisses in return. “The calls were going through up until about a week ago. You answered once. You _heard_ me. What the fuck, little brother? Where the hell are you?”

Jack rubs his eyes. “America.” 

“America!” Amelia screeches. He hears her call to the siblings, “America. He's in fucking America. Jesus. Why the hell are you there?” 

“I had to get away,” he replies simply. He hears the door click behind him. He doesn't turn around. “Do you not know?”

Jack waits for an answer. Then he hears static on the other end, before a more masculine voice says to him, “Sean, holy shit. What happened with Ma and Dad? They're acting like they don't know you. We went home for the weekend the other day and we found no sign of you. When we asked they claimed you weren't their son anymore. What the fuck, man?” 

His heart clenches. So that's how it is at home? His parents acting like they never had him? He bites his lower lip. None of them know. Jack says, “Hey, Seamus.”

“Hey my ass,” his brother replies. “Explain. Now.” 

More clamoring. He hears Emma, the younger of his sisters, screaming, “Just put him on speaker, Christ! Then we can all talk to him!”

After a moment, he assumes he's on speaker now, he hears Seamus, “Okay. Now explain. What happened, why are you in America, and why didn't you come to us?”

The bed dips beside him. Jack glances over, and Mark sits there, staring at him with a raised brow. Jack shrugs and doesn't answer him, and Mark sits quietly. “I came out to Ma and Dad.”

“Okay?” 

“They didn't like it,” Jack elaborates. “Obviously. I told them I was bisexual and they flipped their shit. Told me to get out and never to come back. Lots of screaming.” 

“For being bisexual?” the oldest of his brothers, Aidan, prompts. “Really? Are you really being serious right now?”

Jack sighs. “Do you really think I'd be here if they didn't?”

“I'm gonna be kicking some ass tonight,” Seamus swears. “Holy fuck, Sean. Why didn't you come to us?”

He's quiet for just a beat, then, “I was afraid you'd act like them. I couldn't handle heartbreak twice.”

For once, his siblings are all in stunned silence. He can feel their disbelief radiating from the phone. He closes his eyes. He waits.

“I take it back,” Seamus says. “I'm gonna be kicking _your_ ass tonight for thinking that--!”

“Seamus!” Amelia cuts him off. 

“That's so fucking stupid! How could he think that we'd _ever_ turn him away?”

The McLoughlin siblings roar to life once more, squabbling back and forth as if Jack isn't there anymore. He pinches the bridge of his nose, figuring that letting them fight it out will be easier than trying to stop them. They'll quit eventually. 

“Shh!” Emma snaps, then her voices addresses Jack. “Hey, kiddo. Are you safe? Where you are? Please tell me you're not on the street. Please tell me you're not living with some drug dealer--”

Jack groans. “No. God, no. I'm safe, Emma. I'm staying at this little inn, run by this nice couple. They're letting me stay here for free, practically, as long as I work here. They treat me really good.”

For the first time since he entered, Jack looks over to Mark. “Really good. Better than I could've ever hoped for.”

Mark smiles encouragingly. 

Aidan speaks up. “I'm glad. Do you want us to bring you home, though? Know what, scratch that. We're bringing you home. God, America. Can't believe it. You can come stay with me, or Amelia if you prefer. We have space.” 

“No, Aidan,” Jack retorts. He hears his heart pounding in his ears. The words had left him before he'd gotten a chance to really think about it. “I want to stay. I want to stay here for now.”

He swallows as silence follows his proclamation. He follows up, “I just wanna stay here, for now. Guys, I...these people. They're good to me. And I think I need this time to be away.”

“You've been away for two months!” Seamus protests. “That's not enough for you?”

Jack closes his eyes. There it is, that clash again. His old life and his new life. He sees little Sean McLoughlin in his thoughts, scared and terrified and wanting nothing more than to seek solace in the family that was supposed to love him. Then he sees himself now, Jack McLoughlin, who just wants to stay with the family he's built for himself here.

“I just need to be here,” Jack can't believe he's saying this. “I can't explain it.”

This is the most quiet the McLoughlin siblings have ever been in their entire lives. It is an odd sensation. Jack feels like an adult for once, he feels like the adult he's been for a long time, independent and no longer the _baby_ , the sad little brother who needs his hand to be held. 

“Okay,” Amelia says, and her voice is strangely neutral. “If that's what you want.”

Murmurs of agreement fill his ears. Jack feels overwhelmed with relief. He covers his mouth, and tears begin to well up in his eyes when Aidan says, “You know we love you, right Sean? More than anything?”

“Even after all of this?” Emma adds. “You're still our little brother. And you always will be. No matter what.”

“And if you ever need us,” Amelia comments. “We'll be here for you.” 

“Through anything,” Seamus agrees.

He starts crying. “I love you guys too.” 

~~

The rain patters on the rooftop, and Jack drifts in and out of consciousness to its tune.

It's late now, the night having stretched over the horizon hours ago. He lays curled in his bed, letting the water droplets lull him to sleep. He doesn't know exactly how late it is, maybe it's not late at all, but he's _tired_. 

Before he can drift off, Jack hears a knock at the door. He groans in response, hoping that it'll let the person at the door know to leave him alone so he can sleep. 

But it opens anyway. “Jaaack. Come on, you, it's only eleven.”

“It's a perfectly reasonable hour to be sleeping,” Jack mumbles. “Go 'way.” 

His bed dips, and he cracks open one eye. Mark pats his cheek gently. “The guys wanted to know if you're up for a game of cards. But you're looking a little tired there...”

Jack groans again. Mark snickers as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “Why you guys gotta play so late, anyway? Fuckin' stupid.”

“It's because Cry doesn't get here until late, you know that,” Mark runs his fingers through his hair. “You can go back to sleep, if you want.”

The Irishman stretches out his shoulders. “Nah. I'll come. Someone's gotta beat all of you guys. Otherwise it'll be Cry, and we don't want that.” 

He grins. “Plus, you'd miss me too much if I wasn't there.”

Jack intends it to be teasing, and Mark seems to interpret it that way, given that he laughs, but he leans over and kisses him on the forehead, saying in all seriousness, “Yeah, I would.”

They go downstairs, hand-in-hand. The _Cutie Pies Inn_ is quiet at this hour, save for the quiet rumble of voices on the other side of the door. Mark goes in ahead of him, opens the door, and as Jack enters, he sees everyone sitting around the table.

When they enter, Felix calls, “There you guys are! We were about to start without you!” 

“You're too slow,” Cry sings, drumming his fingers on the table. “Sit down, buddies, let's get this party started.”

For a brief second, all Jack can do is stare at them. It's as though time freezes just so he can admire this moment, truly relish in the feeling that flushes through him. All of these people here, surrounding him, looking up at him, _at him_ , with gazes of warmth and adoration and genuine appreciation. He feels loved. He is loved. 

There are two empty seats at the table, one for himself and one for Mark. Mark goes ahead and takes his seat, leaving the one spot open for him. He meets his gaze, so encouraging, as always. It isn't a spare seat. It's his. It's the seat that is meant for him. Jack McLoughlin. This is a new puzzle, he realizes. And it's one he fits into. 

A surge of happiness tingles inside of him. He can feel it from the tips of his fingers to the core of his heart, in his lungs and in his knees, in his cheeks and in his bones. It's right. It's the right kind of feeling. It feels like it should.

As Jack walks towards his seat, his heart pounds in his chest—but not from nerves, anxiety, or confusion. It's happiness, the purest form, all condensed into individual beats that pump this energy inside of him.

He sits down, and yeah, Jack thinks, this is right. 

This is home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
